


Twins

by MrsBarnes



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Married, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Mild Language, Modest Parental Angst, Parenthood, Redeemed Ben Solo, Reylo babies, Surprise! Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsBarnes/pseuds/MrsBarnes
Summary: Twins run in Ben's family.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	Twins

Ben sits beside her hospital bed with shoulders slumped and a look like death on his face. “Twins,” he says, voice grave.

Still as worn out and helpless as a beached whale after the birth, Rey flinches. “Ben—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts. “It’s my fault. My mom’s a twin. I should’ve known.”

“I’m the one who insisted we wait to find out the gender. We would have known if we just looked at the ultrasounds.”

Ben acknowledges her statement with the pinched forehead expression he uses when he disagrees with her but doesn’t want to start an argument. Rey usually pushes him until he snaps and reopens the discussion, because she hates leaving things unsaid, but this time she keeps quiet. They can go in circles forever, yet nothing will change their situation.

They planned for one baby, and now they have two.

Slowly, Ben puts his head in his hands. “Twins,” he repeats hollowly.

Rey knows what he means. She thinks back on all the things they bought—a crib, a stroller, gender-neutral clothing. One carrier, one car seat. One. Of everything. For one baby.

“We need another carrier.”

“Yeah.”

“And another crib.”

“Yeah.”

Ben’s fingers squeeze around his forehead. “More shopping,” he mutters distastefully. He hates shopping, especially for baby things. Rey understands that too. He’s so large that he stands out in the store, and women coo over such a big man fumbling around such tiny little purchases, especially the tiny baby shoes. Ben also happens to be antisocial, and he usually returns from the store looking shellshocked, before spending an hour sitting in the dark of his office, recovering.

Now Rey’s a beached whale in bed, her flabby abdomen sore after eleven hours in the various excruciating stages of labor, and they need double of everything.

“Ben, sweetheart.”

He looks up at her with a pained frown. “What.”

“We can—I’m sure Poe or Finn, or even your parents—”

“No,” he says at the very mention of his parents. His frown turns into a moody scowl. “I’ll do it.”

Rey winces. “That—wasn’t my point. I just mean that someone else can buy things to tide us over, at least until I can go to the store with you.”

“No. you need to recover, and the babies—” The plurality of the word stops him. “The—two babies. Two, fuck.” Ben puts his head back in his hands. “I can barely handle the idea of one, let alone two. We’re never going to sleep again. Or go on vacation. Or have sex.” Rey keeps thoughts of having a third child to herself since Ben seems so overwhelmed. Then again, with twins running in the family, they may end up with more than three.

She likes that idea, so she stares at the ceiling lest Ben catch her daydreaming about his nightmare.

A distant cry brings her back up, but the sound passes their room and disappears, leaving her dejectedly slumped into her pillow pile. She wants her kids. “Are they almost done with them?”

“I have no idea,” Ben tells his hands. “Fuck, this is going to be so expensive.”

“You make enough money.”

“Not the point.” Ben blows out a heavy breath and lets his hands sag between his knees. His face is pale, his dark eyes squeezed up tight as a button. “You seem totally okay with this. With twins.”

“I want three,” Rey admits because she’s honest to a fault.

Ben looks up at her, and he’s so handsome, with his large nose and dark hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. “Three,” he repeats plaintively.

“Or more. I hope they all look like you. Or at least have your hair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters. His big hand runs up through the hair in question, raking it back from his forehead so she can see his scattershot of moles. “It’s better if they look like you. I’m too fucking ugly. With twins running in my genetics.” His eyes squeeze up again. This time, instead of repeating his worries over and over, he bites his flush lower lip and visibly breathes through the panic.

He’s getting better, Rey realizes with pride. Her stubborn, tempestuous husband. “I love you.”

“I have no idea why.”

More squalling in the hallway disrupts her response, louder this time than the last, and Rey perks up, because it’s echoed, two voices wailing their discontent in sync, and they stop right in front of their door. “Ben, Ben!”

His head picks up, and they watch together as two nurses bring in a pair of swaddled babies, one pink, the other blue. “Here you are,” the head nurse says, depositing the blue blanket in Rey’s arms. “A healthy little boy, plus a little girl for daddy.” Ben adopts a visibly startled expression as the pink blanket is shoved against his chest, and Rey stares at how perfect he looks holding their daughter before turning to the baby in her own arms. She’s relieved to see a dark mop of hair and dark eyes, her little boy crying even as his gaze roams the blob of her face.

“Hi,” she says, running a finger down his velvety cheek. “Oh, Ben, look at him! He’s perfect!”

“Yeah,” Ben agrees.

He’s staring at their little girl when Rey looks, his eyes wide and alarmed. She’s small enough to fit in one of his hands, and he seems all too aware of the size difference, cradling her close with his shoulders hunched to make him appear less threatening. “Ben.”

His pleading eyes snap up to her. “She’s too small,” he says.

The nurses hovering in the doorway giggle.

“Rey,” he repeats urgently, ignoring the nurses, “she’s _too small_. How am I supposed to hold her? What if I drop her?”

“Bring her over here.”

Ben does in a hurry, looking almost relieved when both babies are cradled in the crook of Rey’s elbows and he has no more immediate responsibility for their welfare. He hovers over all three of them, uncertainly lifting and lowering his hands, teeth caught in his lower lip again. Eventually his arms fall, and he says, “Twins,” blankly.

“Twins,” Rey agrees over the sound of their kids’ fussy squalling.

Ben looks at them, one two three like a snapshot, and finally, for the first time since she slapped him awake the night before and told him in anxious disbelief that her water broke, Ben smiles. It’s wide and wrinkly like a dog’s, and full of unfiltered joy. “Twins. Fuck, Rey, we have _twins_. I’m—I’m a _dad_!”

“Say ‘hi daddy,’” she tells their babies who, as newborns, continue crying with no care for their parents’ feelings.

Ben looks happy anyway, and he sits on the edge of the bed to bundle them all up in his long arms, still grinning fit to split his face. “Hi,” he says to them. They look like twins—both dark haired, with dark blue eyes that may or may not lighten as they age. Could be brown, could be gray. They’re also small, and bright wrinkly red, and their little mouths keep tightening in discomfort at this big new world outside her stomach. She’s melting all over, she feels it, and has to sniffle to keep from dripping snot and tears on her kids. “Rey, we’ll be okay. What’s one more, right?”

“I want three,” she reminds him, still sniffling. “And I’m okay with having another set of twins.”

“Let’s—start with two. Please.”

Rey nods, because her husband will give her three eventually, and smiles in watery satisfaction down at their little family. It’s her first time having a family all her own. “I love them. They’re perfect.” She looks up at Ben. “Thank you for giving them to me.”

He frowns at her. “ _You_ gave them to _me_.”

The nurses start giggling again, so Rey sends them off with a mild glare before turning to pin Ben with a no-nonsense expression. Familiar with the consequences of her stubbornness, Ben already looks wary. “Twins run in your family, not mine, so at the very least you gave me one extra. I’m not going to decide which one, so you gave them both to me. The end.”

“How about we both gave them to each other?”

Rey considers that. “Fair enough.”

They return to admiring their babies, and Rey feels Ben’s cheek settle on top of her head as his thumb strokes idle circles around her upper arm. They still need to decide names, and get another carrier, and introduce them to the hovering mass of extended family outside. Ben will no doubt throw a small fit when his parents ask to hold either child. Too bad, since Rey plans on foisting their children off on the grandparents as often as possible just so they can keep going on dates, and having sex, and spending time making the third baby Rey will damn well have within the next year if she has any say in the matter.

She’s already so happy with two—how much happier will she be with more?

“Fine,” Ben sighs.

“What?”

“I know that look on your face,” he says dourly. His free hand comes up to gently tweak the pink blanket tangled in their daughter’s grasping hands. “Give it—a month? At least a month to settle in. Then we can try for another one.”

“Another set of twins,” Rey corrects, proudly.

Sighing, Ben tilts his head back against her pillow mound and agrees, “Twins,” in resignation.


End file.
